


Ten Shots

by ANervousBoysLife



Series: Tumblr Requests [2]
Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, One Night Stands, Request Meme, Requests, Unrequited Love, get rekt @ pete
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-04
Updated: 2016-05-04
Packaged: 2018-06-06 10:29:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6750268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ANervousBoysLife/pseuds/ANervousBoysLife
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anonymous asked: Maybe peterick with jealous!pete? Or either one of them jealous please?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ten Shots

**Author's Note:**

> this was sent in to my [tumblr](http://anervousboyslife.tumblr.com/ask) ask box! feel free to send in your own requests!  
> (this note will be repeated at the end)
> 
> I'm not sure if this is what you wanted but here you go my dude.

This was the fifth peanut Pete had crushed with his bare hands. His temper was getting out of control. He sighed down at the fragments of the ruined nut and cast his glance back over to where Patrick was sitting.

Currently, Patrick was chatting with some guy. Really, Pete should be fine with it. It’s not like he was dating Patrick. Patrick wasn’t his to have, he knew that. They’d only exchanged quick handjobs in the back of the van a few times, so really, what was his deal? But that didn’t stop Pete from feeling some sense of protectiveness over Patrick, that of which he had no right to have.

His attention was drawn back by the bartender, “Would you like another?”

Pete cast his gaze back to where Patrick had been, only to find he had slipped away with the unknown stranger. 

“Yeah. Make it a double.”

 

Ten more shots and he found himself back in the van, Joe lazily clipping his seatbelt on. Pete was too tired to do anything more than yawn and shift so his side rest on the door of the van. It was dark and there were only three figures counting himself. Patrick hadn’t come back yet, and he felt a wave of jealousy hit him. Had he really lost him to some random stranger in a bar? Was Patrick content without him? Did he not return the affections that Pete bestowed upon him?

Pete knew he was tearing up but he was too drunk to care. Too done with everything to even try to care. Patrick wasn’t his and would probably never be. It was harsh, but so was reality. It seemed everything Pete wanted in life could be snatched away from him, and Patrick was one of them. Then again, Patrick was never his.

The door on the opposite side opened slowly then shut again. Pete didn’t have the energy to open his eyes and greet his best friend. He was also scared to see what he looked like, if his clothes were disheveled and hair a mess. Maybe he had a love bite from this quick encounter, a phone number written on his hand, something. Something to prove he was no longer within Pete’s grasp.

But Pete didn’t get his wish. Patrick settled down right beside him, his thigh pressed right against Pete’s and warmed his skin. Pete wished he could will himself to look at the man he loved, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t bare to see his possibly sweaty face tinted with another man’s lips. He couldn’t.

But it didn’t matter. He could feel Patrick shift next to him, leaning on his side and pressing his face against Pete’s neck. Patrick’s hand drifted up Pete’s shirt and rested lightly on his belly, as if nothing had happened between him and another man. As if everything was still the same. As if he was still Pete’s, or was Pete’s at all.

 

Another show brings another venue brings another man Patrick can mess around with. Another night Pete sits alone at the bar. Another night a part of him dies, be it his heart or his liver. Another round of drinks to get intoxicated on to forget that, once again, Patrick was never his to keep. 

It made Pete sick. He’d seen it a million times by now. The pain had subsided into anger and disgust, but he still wished desperately for it to be him Patrick snuck off into unsanitary bathrooms with, but he also wanted more. He wanted long nights out. He wanted pizza dates when the pizza had just a little too much sauce. He wanted romantic kisses stolen in the dead of night as the van thundered on, driving on a deserted highway. He wanted all of it.

This time, he decided, it would be different. Patrick wouldn’t just wander off with a somebody and place another mark in his book. Pete wouldn’t drown his sorrows in cheap liquor. They wouldn’t end up in a van and pretend it never happened. The cycle wouldn’t continue.

This time, when Patrick was chatting up some stranger, he’d make his move and go in for the kill. It was his turn.

Stalking over to a bar stool, Pete kept an eye on Patrick. The pale boy always played the same game. Look lonely and sad, tell someone your story and hope they take the bait. Of course, the story was always a lie and somehow always worked. Pete was simply shocked at it at first, then slowly he realized how Patrick had practiced it so many times before.

Once Pete saw a young man wander up next to Patrick, he moved in. The man had already been engulfed by Patrick’s story by the time he was within hearing distance.

“Yeah… This guy and I, we’re close. Best friends, even. I don’t even think he knows I loved him, you know? I still kinda do…”

“So, what? You give him a handjob in the back of a van and call it love?” The look on Patrick’s face was pure shock, not acting for once, “You sleep with countless strangers and watch him tear himself apart inside while doing it? You watch how every night, he sees you go off with a stranger when it should be him? It should be me!” Pete’s voice had grown louder and louder until it had finally cracked.

There was a heavy silence between them before Pete spoke again, “Screw you… Screw you and every pretty little stranger you’ve fucked. Screw your stories. I’m done…” 

Pete was pretty sure he heard footsteps follow him to the door, but they didn’t continue once he exited the shitty bar, and they sure as hell didn’t follow him to the van. As he got inside the van, he could see the outline of a figure stand, watching the van before turning back inside, head hanging low. 

With tears in his eyes, Pete punched his pillow before falling asleep.

 

This time, he didn’t wake up with Patrick pressed up to his side. This time, he didn’t hear the hum of the engine on the highway. This time, it was peaceful crickets and breeze that woke him up. The van was parked somewhere on the highway, a grassy field on either side. It was quiet in the van. Andy and Joe must have wandered off somewhere to leave Pete alone. And Patrick… he was sitting in front of Pete, eyes focused steadily on his breathing chest.

“You’re up. Finally.” Patrick looked tired, the bags under his eyes pronounced and figure hanging with fatigue. 

“I am. How was Mr. Stranger? Better in bed than me? Or, should I say bathroom?”

Patrick sighed.

“Or was he bad? Make a wrong choice?”

He shifted in his seat and closed his eyes. 

“I’m sorry your one night stand didn’t go as pla--”

“I didn’t sleep with him.”

Pete tilted his head then rubbed his eyes. “You didn’t?”

Patrick shook his head, nervously messing with his shirt as he looked anywhere but at Pete. “No. I didn’t. Listen… That story--”

“Was fake, I know.”

“No! It wasn’t. It-- Listen, when we did _that_ , I thought you only wanted a one time thing, so I backed off… I found a way to cope, only for a little while. Then I’d come back, and you’d be slammed drunk so I just assumed…”

“You assumed wrong.”

“I know that now, I do. I-- I hope you can forgive me…”

Pete looked at Patrick, a small smile growing on his face. 

“Yeah. I can forgive you.”

**Author's Note:**

> this was sent in to my [tumblr](http://anervousboyslife.tumblr.com/ask) ask box! feel free to send in your own requests!


End file.
